


Prelude: And Lo! The Engine Turns

by ginger_infiltrator



Series: Suite in the Key of Suffering [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Mind Reading, UST, bear with me, guts and blood later, i'm just setting up for later chapters, kind of, later sin, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 03:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6639775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginger_infiltrator/pseuds/ginger_infiltrator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren sizes up General Hux during a particularly boring meeting. What he finds is not quite what he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prelude: And Lo! The Engine Turns

The first time Kylo Ren meets the general, his mind is perfectly ordered and regimented. Everything in its assigned place, carefully compartmentalized fears and traumas Ren can only brush against to feel their emotional colors, but not the pinpoint detail he wants to gather for future manipulation. He glares impassively through his mask across the room at his new rival’s face. Ren determines he is of a similar age, a smaller build, and of sharp, vicious mind. Not an ounce of force sensitivity on him. The attention he has allotted to sizing his new compatriot up does not allow for any remainder to focus on the briefing. No matter. He implicitly trusts that the First Order will go on running independently of any input of his. The only voice that matters is Snoke.

The voices of underlings drone on and on as he skirts the mental landscape. Most officers are typical: power hungry, nervous, with red-hot ambition. Sadly disordered and far too petty to achieve much. And then there’s the fear. Far too much fear in these underlings, mostly honed into a fine shrieking point focused on the blank face of Ren’s mask. Enough of those gathered have the vague idea down in the back of their minds of what he can do. Ren evaluates these petty fears, and smugly comes to the conclusion that each and every mind in the room has underestimated him. There are flashes of a red lightsaber in one, the grip of a force-choke in many others. None fully comprehend the true damage Ren can inflict. Not the way he can overwhelm their minds, even now, with a pure, primordial fear that would send their hearts stuttering into tachycardia. Not the way he can wrench and rend a psyche into a multitude of frayed scraps that can never coalesce in the same way again. These people fear for their physical bodies. They should, however, fear for their very deepest selves. Ren likes to see things break.

The knight often tires of all the planning meetings that the Starkiller base requires to get its feet off the ground. So many technical plebeians’ monotonal drones of facts and figures. The white-hot fervor of the others, especially those committed to the weaponry. But Snoke has ordered him here to be present in all stages of this monstrosity. Ren does not yet fully value the project. Supreme Leader chides him for thinking too small. The force can only do so much when wielded through two sets of hands. This new weapon will require hundreds of thousands of hands and hours and careful planning, and though the progress may be slow, it will do far more damage than Snoke and his apprentice could achieve in a lifetime. Ren supposes he resents the Starkiller for its power. Again, he cannot deny its necessity. He just begrudges the fact that he must be present in these premature stages of its conception.

On his first sweep through the gathered minds present, he completely skimmed General Hux. The brain waves were simply too subtle for him to pay any mind. The rest were so disordered and loud, and the rush of power he felt in seeing their perceptions of him distracted his attention from the exercise. Ren slowly realizes that he has not yet taken stock of the general. He is vaguely aware of his character, having obsessively combed his files in a fit of jealousy after Snoke had praised him so easily. Ren had to earn his praises with his pain. He doubted Hux had to do the same. In the files, he had found a driven man, unerringly fanatical to the cause. He must have thrived in structure, to have risen through the ranks at such a speed. Perhaps he never slept. At the time, Kylo had comforted himself in the fact that the general was only human, with all the human weaknesses he had encountered in various minds of power in the past. There was always a simpering part of them that could be crushed with just the right pressure. Always a fear that could be exploited and expanded until it left them in a useless panic. Ren kept these in mind, should any person displease him. Now looking upon the general, the unease begin to swell like the plasma of a dying star.

This is an order he rarely encounters: one resistance tactician, one technical specialist, and bizarrely, one enslaved Twi’lek. The first tentative brush leaves him with the general’s immediate emotions. The warm burn of pride in his core, an itching anticipation at the base of his spine and in his fingertips. Satisfaction. Even though they did not know it, most broadcast their emotions so that Ren sees them effortlessly. The general is different at first. Ren focuses, trying to slide sideways into the general’s mind beneath the conscious machinations in the forefront of his thoughts. He felt… he felt almost nothing. With further effort he could perceive the shapes and energies of thoughts, but as though through an opaque film. The general’s subconscious mind did not churn in the same violent way as his own. It was as if he had beaten down and enslaved his most primal self and had jailed all his memories.

Ren understands that if he pushes now to gain more detail, Hux will instinctually try to drive him out. So instead, he drifts upwards into the higher processing forefront of the general’s mind. Here it is less volatile than the military minds around him. Usually thoughts drift unhindered, some shouting out until heeded. Here in Hux’s mind, though, it is calm and linear. Not a single strand of thought, but three processing simultaneously. The most dominant focuses on the future, shining with coils of code and physics and logistics comingling into the vague shape of the Starkiller Base. Even now he tweaks the design, ignoring most of the input of his underlings around him. The second strand of thought focuses on the meeting itself. It seems to Ren that Hux is never fully distracted, always watching the situation out of the corner of his eye while deep in thought. This line of reasoning sizes up every suggestion unearthed, and the ego of the first strand picks them apart, keeping only the salient bits. The last line of thought is quietly insidious, drawing up from his unconscious. It sizes up everyone in the room, cycling through impressions and what Hux knows to be weak points. These thoughts are mumbled and faint, but Ren hears them and immediately focuses his attention there. This, he reasons, must be the core of the man. Hux may have hammered his psyche into a strict and ordered place, but this voice, this voice remained. Ren knows how hard it is to kill the true self.

He mentally brushes closer to this voice, trying to make out the enticing murmurs. Ren leans in with more vigor and for a brief moment these thoughts are the loudest in the general’s mind, drowning out the rational. For only this short moment it seems natural to the general. Ren’s lingering on these thoughts, however, brings him into high alert. Ren can feel the space growing chilly. The walls move in. When he looks through his own eyes, he can see that Hux has pinned him under his stare. The indignation and rage burning dually in his psyche and eyes intoxicates Ren with the thrill of triumph, even as he is thrown forcibly from the general’s mind. Human after all. The general continues for a moment to glare at Ren’s mask, but then Hux wrenches his gaze forward and does not err to Ren’s face for the duration of the gathering.

Ren tries to gain entry again, gently brushing up against the general’s aura. He finds that it is gone, replaced with the menacing image of solid blast doors. Ren wants to push, hard, but a psychic struggle of this measure would be… inappropriate in the gathered company. He immerses himself in the psychic landscape, teasing and prodding thoughts of the general as he finds them.

 

…

 

The second time Ren meets the general aboard the Finalizer, the blast doors are still up. General Hux deigns to meet him in the shuttle bay, flanked by no less than a dozen storm troopers.

Ren tests the edges of Hux’s mind and finds a citadel erected and fortified through will alone. The unease returns to Kylo, now shimmering with an off note of admiration. He pushes harder, keeping eye contact with Hux. He thrills in the fine beads of sweat that well up at the general’s temples. His face is impassive, but his eyes purely murderous.

“Lord Ren.” The general’s syllables are even more clipped than usual. Ren’s name rolls about in his mouth, drowning that pompous imperial drawl. “I’ll have none of that on my ship.”

Ren smiles in a familiar predatory way, completely lost to the general under his mask.

“What a warm welcome, General Hux. And I do believe that this is to be our ship.” Ren is grateful for the dispassionate mechanical hum of the voice modulator. Perhaps he relies on it too much, but he welcomes any illustration of intimidation in this instance.

“Perhaps it could be, if you would show even an ounce of aptitude with naval tactics. As it stands, I am in full command of this ship’s operations. She is mine.”

Ren can see the sharp gleam of his canines as he sneers.

“Well then general, do lead the way.”

Through the tour Ren eases the pressure against Hux’s walls. Wouldn’t do to damage an ally so quickly. But he still remains on the edges, a gentle leaning pressure like a pet underfoot.  
 

**Author's Note:**

> Alright this is the calm before the storm. If you continue ready yourself for mind fuckery and gore. Also regular fuckery.


End file.
